One Last Trip
by Lost Triforce
Summary: "The chem that did this to me? I knew what it was going to do." A look into Hancock's past before becoming a Ghoul, and the woman that shaped his life. F!SSxHancock, Rated for some language, drug use, and suggestive themes. Oneshot.


"Hey you! Kid! You Mac's little brother? John, right?"

A young man of around his late-twenties opened his eyes from his spot, lying on his back, the grass. It was one of the few green spots left in Diamond City, just outside the gates. He sat up, mischievous brown eyes twinkling, wavy, blonde hair fluttering in the cold, spring wind.

"Mac? Is that what you people are calling him?"

He's met with a slick grin and hands on curvaceous hips. She's short, mousey, even. A button nose and sweet, heart shaped face clash with her half shaven head. A sheet of chocolate hair comes to a sharp point on the left side of her face in contrast. Her blue eyes catch his own- full of fire though they appear like a sea before him.

"Well that's what happens when they give you a name like 'McDoughnut'."

He scoffed.

"It's 'McDonough'. And what oh-so wonderful name are you toting, stranger?"

"Mayweather. Ella Mayweather, actually."

"Mayweather? Please. Mayweather is for nice little blonde girls who make their mommy and daddy proud. You don't look like a Mayweather."

He grin grew wider.

"Oh yeah? And what do you think I look like?"

He thought for a moment. Then returned her grin with a smirk of his own.

"You look like trouble. Like 'Mayday' kinda trouble."

"Mayday, huh? Fine, but you're stuck with McDoughnut."

"Hah! Fair enough. You mentioned my brother. What'd he want?"

"Oh nothing." The fire in her eyes seemed to grow. Great tongues of it lapped at the sea surrounding her pupils. "He just said to stay away from you. Said you we trouble. Like 'sneaks off to Goodneighbor to shoot up chems' trouble."

He snorted in response.

"Yeah well. Goodneighbor is anarchy."

"The best kind of anarchy," she returned in a hushed voice, "my kind of anarchy."

"No way a good girl like you messes with chems."

"Good girl? What happened to 'trouble'? I'm Miss Mayday, remember?"

He laughed.

"Alright Miss Mayday," he stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans, "let's test that. Follow me to Goodneighbor. We'll see if you can keep up.

Ella's grin snapped into a challenging smirk.

"Alright McDoughnut, I'll follow your lead. But it'll be you that needs to keep up."

(/)

Hancock woke with a start, hands gripping the arms of his chair in his office. There were some places in his mind he dare not go in his waking hours. His subconscious mind, however, had no qualms about traveling to that dark place. Even still, the memory of _her_ was distinctly off limits.

Hancock checked the time, wondering just how long he'd dozed off for.

 _Shit, where did three hours go? Fahr, what are you good for?!_

He strode out into the street in search of his body guard, stopping as he heard Finn up to his usual extortion bullshit. The woman he was talking to caught his attention.

She was tall, hair cascading in brown waves, face pulled into an almost amused smirk at Finn's bullshit, and her eyes...

Behind them, there was a fire he hadn't seen in years.

"Now now Finn," Hancock began...

(/)

Empty containers of Jet, beer bottles, and syringes lay strewn all over the old concrete drainage pipe outside of Goodneighbor- John's favorite place to shoot up alone. Only that night he was joined by Ella whose eyes were rolling back in her head, smiling blissfully as she enjoyed her trip.

"I'm impressed, doll. I think I've met my match. You've certainly kept up."

"You know," she drawled, grin returning to her beautiful face, crawling closer to him on hands and knees, "there's other ways we can get 'high'."

"Oh?"

Ella crawled into John's lap, placing her hands on his chest as her lips crashed into his, tongues swirling together as John's hands groped at her body hungrily.

"Goddamn..."

"Shut up."

Before long they were both undressed, panting as sweat rolled down their bodies.

"I knew you were gonna be trouble, McDonough. Damn if you weren't a good time."

"Oh? Spoken like someone who plans on never seeing me again."

"Ha. As if you're the type to get attached."

"You're right, I'm not. Get's too messy that way."

"Alright then, I have an idea."

Ella sat up, gathering her clothes from the floor of the tunnel.

"How about this: you and I run into each other on our way for a binge? We hangout. We fuck. We part ways. If we don't see each other, we don't see each other. No messy attachment or commitment."

"Sounds like a deal to me."

"Good. See you 'round, McDoughnut."

"Later, Miss Mayday."

(/)

Nora was fierce in battle. He'd seen her take on an endless stream of raiders with hardly any trouble. She was kind, stopping to aid nearly anyone who'd asked for her help, no matter how small the task. Even so, when someone did something deplorable, the look in her eyes could scare the scales off a deathclaw.

He'd been almost too eager to join her after settling the business with Bobbi. Everyday with her was a rush better than the chems... well, almost as good. And speaking of the chems, he found out she liked jet and could handle straight whiskey better than half the men in the Commonwealth. More than once while out drinking with her, he'd caught her wantonly eyeing Magnolia as she sang. For the most part he'd found the thought of the two of them tantalizing, but as their days together wore on, he found himself getting strangely jealous.

 _What's gotten into you?_

He found himself gripping his barstool tighter anytime a man approached her to dance. In those moments he felt he could turn feral. They didn't deserve even a moment of her time.

(/)

It seemed most nights John ran into Ella outside of Goodneighbor. More than once he caught her sitting along a few of his preferred routes, as if she was actually waiting him. Each time they spent hours shooting up and drinking before eventually falling into a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs, the smell of sex and booze flooding the muggy night air.

Nearly six months of their song and dance had passed before the night Ella sought John out.

"What's going on?"

"You'll see. Got something good planned tonight."

The two ran the shortest, but riskiest, path to Goodneighbor, purchasing their vices in a rushed haze.

"No dirty old radroach infested pipe tonight. I got us a room at the old inn."

"Damn, Mayday, I gotta say. I'm impressed."

"Oh trust me, I'll give you good reason to be impressed in a few."

The climbed onto the stiff inn-bed with the largest haul of jet, psycho, mentats, and booze they'd ever purchased at once. They wasted no time tearing though the pile, sighing and grunting with every inhale and injection.

"So I gotta ask, doll: what's the occasion?"

"The occasion? Well... the end. At least for me. I hope that doesn't change how you look at me."

John frowned.

"The end? What d'you mean?"

Ella sighed.

"I mean I'm quitting. I'm getting clean. This has been fun, but I'm ready to start seeing life with a clear, chem-free head."

Ella's eyes twinkled as she said it, a smile dancing across her lips.

"Hey, can't keep going forever I suppose."

"Doesn't mean I don't know how to go out with bang."

She reached into the shoddy old shoulder bag she always carried with her and produced a syringe filled with a glowing green liquid.

"The hell is that?!"

"It's called 'Radical' or 'Rad-cho' or some bullshit. It's experimental, got it off some guy here a few weeks ago. He said something about using rads to get an insane high. Said it was so amazing that you'd come back 'changed' by the end of the ride. Figured I'd make my last ever chem a good one."

"Are you sure about this? Aren't rads bad for you?"

Ella laughed that delicious laugh of hers.

"Oh and psycho isn't? Come on, McDoughnut, live a little! My life as a Sober Sally is going to be dull enough as it is! Don't blow my last high for me!"

"Alright, alright. As long as you aren't tripping alone, I guess."

Ella's signature grin returned to her face. She steadied her hand as best she could, lining up the shot into her thigh.

"One...Last...Trip."

She plunged the needle into her leg, wincing at the pain as the contents of the syringe drained into her body. Once it was empty, she withdrew the syringe with a grunt, eyes closed, body swaying.

"Well?"

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, looking all around the room before landing wantonly on John.

"God, if only you could feel this...take me."

"Ain't gotta ask me twice."

John dragged her down onto the bed, deft hands undressing her, mouth exploring hers before trailing kisses down her neck, teeth sinking into the curve where her neck met her shoulder, eliciting a loud moan. He kept going, hips rolling against hers as her fingernails dug into his back. Her breath quickened, body becoming impossibly warm. She started swatting at his arms and back, a gesture he took as playful before he realized her distress. She kept getting warmer, skin glowing a sickly neon green. She began screaming, clawing at herself as if she was on fire.

John did know what to do. Hospitals were scarce in the Commonwealth, and most junkies got turned away. They figured the truly unfortunate had priority over the addicts. John just held her, rocking her back and forth franticly as she convulsed, near-primal grunts and screams clawed their way out from her throat.

"I got ya Mayday. C'mon, stay with me, it'll be alright. C'mon..."

Finally she stopped jerking. Her skin faded from bright, glowing green to a deep grey tone. Her lips were cracked and peeling, her brown hair dropping out in clumps, eyelashes and brows shedding as her face twitched. Worst of all were her eyes. When they finally opened, all the fire was absent. The sea that was once there laid bare and black.

"Good lord Mayday... you're...you're a..."

(/)

Hancock tried to laugh the flirting off. He told himself she thought nothing of it, or even better that he was just imagining it.

He could've kicked himself when mentioned his 'impure thoughts', but then he swore he saw Nora bite her lip before he insisted that they push on.

He hated when she ran off with someone else. Sure, Nick, Cait, and MacCready could handle themselves, but the rest?

Something was always off with Preston. He seemed like he was one mistake away from getting himself and Nora killed. Piper was one hell of a gal, but he hated how she always seemed to be just along for the story. More than once after a particularly traumatic mission he'd caught her questioning a clearly rattled Nora. Curie and Codsworth were nice enough, but he just didn't trust them to be able to hold their own on the field. Deacon was too much of a wildcard in his eyes, and Danse...

He felt his fist clench at the thought of Danse. When she returned to Sanctuary with him he was nearly sick. Everything the Brotherhood stood for...

Nora had pulled him aside to explain her new companion's presence. Promised him the the Brotherhood and Danse's feelings towards Synths and Ghouls were not her own. She put a lot of emphasis on her feelings towards Ghouls. For a moment he thought there was something to that, but he let the thought go.

When they did travel together, he clung to her as if she were air. Constantly watching her six, always warning her of potential danger. Somewhere in the void of his mind, he was reminded of the fearless woman of his past. Of her lust for life. Of his failure to protect her.

He wouldn't fail again.

(/)

"What the hell Mac?! 'Mankind for McDonough'?! The hell is that supposed to mean?!"

John's brother hardly looked up from his desk.

"Hey now, I warned you you might see a side of me you weren't used to pending the election-"

"Don't give me that crap!"

John marched up to his elder brother's desk, slamming his hands down on the hard wood.

"C'mon, Mac, this is me we're talkin' about. I can get behind plenty of slimey, underhanded political bullshit, but this?! That's damn near a call for genocide!"

The older McDonough sighed.

"Look, John. I get you have a personal stake in this, what with that irradiated junkie you've taken up with-"

"DON'T. Don't you ever mention Ella to me. Not while you're running this fucked up campaign of yours. We. Are. Done."

John stormed out of the office in the stands, nearly running over the small figure wrapped from head to shoulders in a black shawl.

"Hey McDoughnut."

John stopped in his track, turning to see the one obsidian eye and raw tissue peeking out from under the head wrap.

"Hey now, if it isn't Miss Mayday. Good to see you out of the house."

The eye crinkled, smile hidden.

"I was actually just looking for you. Come back to my place?"

John took the tiny gloved hand he was offered.

"Sure, lead the way."

(/)

" _Have you ever thought of us as, maybe, more than friends_?"

Hancock replayed the moment in his head over and over again in the following weeks. All the flirting, the reassurance that she'd held no ill-feelings toward Ghouls, all the cues he'd thought he'd been imagining. They were real. And they were together. It made the days they spent apart even more difficult. He made routine trips to Goodneighbor, always reasserting his place as mayor, but the place he'd once found thrilling seemed dull without her presence. Sanctuary almost felt like a prison every time she ventured out with someone new.

But when she was there, the very air around him seemed to buzz with excitement. They spent nights in a chem-filled haze, clothes strewn all over the floor, limbs and sheets tangled together in bliss. He was overwhelmed by how much he'd come to care for her. The dark place in his mind yawned, reminding him of the past he packed away as he drifted off to sleep.

(/)

John's brows were knit tightly together, sweat pouring from his face as he rested his head against Ella's lap. She dabbed at his forehead with a cold, damp cloth, sighing.

"Fuck this shit," John grunted, coughing, "If I had known it'd be this hard to kick, I'd have never started Jet in the first damn place."

Ella let out a dry laugh.

"That's not the Jet. Mentats were the easiest to kick. Hell I wouldn't begrudge myself a tab or two now and then. Jet took a couple months to get over. But Psycho? That shit sticks with you. Still get dreams I'm shooting up and I wake up in near tears when I realize it's not real. Oh god- in the bucket!"

John had begun heaving, nearly missing the metal bucket Ella had brought out for him for that very purpose. Ella had gone through with her promise to quit chems after the incident that left her a Ghoul. John had continued for months after, but had a sudden change of heart just weeks prior.

"You know," Ella murmured, rubbing John's back as he spat up the last of the stale vomit, "just because I quit doesn't mean you have to..."

John shook his head vigorously, immediately regretting it as he felt his stomach surge from the movement.

"No... got to..."

"But why?"

He just shrugged and laughed.

"Ghouls live a loooong time. Gotta stay healthy so I can pester you for a good long while. You're stuck with me kid."

"Oh please. As if the great John McDoughnut would ever get saddled down by anyone."

As she rolled her eyes she caught her reflection in a mirror across from their spot on the floor. She turned her uncovered face this way and that way, eyes pooling.

"God, what did I do to myself... I'm-"

"Just as beautiful as the day I met you, doll."

Ella looked down into John's smug, grinning face. She smiled meekly back.

"You don't mean that. I'm a damn monster. Half of Diamond City wants us gone."

"Doesn't matter to me. I know who you are. I care about you. That's all that should matter. Now I'm here whether you want me or not."

"...You'd really stick with me?"

"Damn straight."

"...prove it."

Ella stood, walking over to her battered old messenger bag and reaching in, hand pausing when she felt what she was looking for.

"I...I don't know why I kept this after all this time. But maybe now I do..."

She pulled her hand out, revealing a syringe glowing with a green fluid.

John's eyes widened.

"God damn, Ella. You had another one of those things?!"

"Dealer gave me two. The only two left. So what I'm proposing is this: If you really mean what you say... If you really wanna do this... do us... longterm...take it. When you're old and grey, or when you just have nothing else in this life to lose... take it. Take it and be with me."

Ella held the syringe out to John. For a moment he hesitated, but ultimately he took it from her. For a moment the grin John had fallen in love with returned.

"Even if you're just taking it to shut me up... you don't know how much that means to me..."

"Yeah well, someone has to keep up with you Mayday. Ah shit-"

John leaned back over the bucket, heaving as Ella laughed mirthfully.

"You always did know how to ruin the moment, John."

(/)

Hancock had sworn long ago not to step foot back into Diamond City, but upon hearing about the little chapel marrying folks off, he had to go back.

He went as undercover as possible, head wrapped in a shroud, the only hint of his Ghoul status being his black eyes.

He watched a few ceremonies from the shadows, head down, watching happy couple after happy couple dance away with their new found commitment to each other. Commitment was a difficult concept for him, he never could settle down in one place for long, Goodneighbor being the only thing close to a constant in his life, and even then, he left on more than one occasion. Nora was different though. For her, he'd do nearly anything. He'd leave his life of gunning and shooting up behind if it meant being with her.

The realization washed over Hancock. She was the one.

(/)

"I did it John..."

"You bastard."

The newly elected Mayor McDonough looked down from his office in the stands as crowds of Ghouls pushed their way out of the city, chased by the humans of Diamond City as if for sport.

"Call it off, Mac, this isn't you. You can't just do this to people, they'll die out there!"

"No can do, John. Those men and women out there? They depend on me to carry out the will of the people. I can't turn my back on them now."

The Mayor looked down at the chaos, mouth warping into a deranged grin. The look on his face was that of immense pride and pleasure.

"You're a sick bastard, you know that? You're dead to me."

John ran out of the stands to his home, tossing the essentials into a pack with blinding speed, hand pausing only for a moment over the glowing green syringe before ultimately taking it. He then ran out into the street in search of the chem's original owner.

"ELLA!"

The crowd surged through the city gates, pulling John along with them. It'd be near impossible to find the small mouse of a woman in the tide of fleeing Ghouls.

"ELLA!"

"John?! JOHN!"

He spun around, seeing her bringing up the back of the horde of fleeing refugees, old messenger back slapping her thigh as she ran.

John looked behind her as he heard the sound of a gun being loaded. Behind the swell of people stood a man with a near identical grin to his brother's. He leveled his gun at Ella's back, hand trembling with excitement.

"ELLA!"

A shot rang out into the crowd, rushing everyone forward. John ran back through the sea of people, feet flying as fast as they could possibly carry him. He dove to catch Ella before she hit the ground.

"C'mon Ella, stay with me. C'mon Mayday... stay with me! Don't...don't leave me..."

Ella's eyes rolled in her head, vision swimming until they met with Johns. She cracked a tiny smile, blood coating her teeth and dribbling down her lip.

"I...kn...knew you'd be trouble McDonough..."

She laughed before falling into a coughing fit.

"I...L...Love..."

The fire behind her eyes extinguished itself, unseeing. The tiny hand John had desperately been clinging to turned cold.

(/)

Hancock walked briskly down the streets of Diamond City, still trying to avoid people's gaze. He knew it was a matter of time before someone realized he was a Ghoul, but he was going to push it as long as he could. He had one last thing to do before he could leave that god forsaken city:

Get Nora a ring.

He ducked into the one jeweler in town and began perusing the different rings, looking for one that would suit Nora. He was alone save the shopkeep- a greying woman approaching her 70s. She took a step toward Hancock and he shied away, hoping he could make a purchase before she suspected him.

" _You_."

Hancock felt a cold chill run down his spine. He tried to avoid looking at the woman as she drew closer.

"I'd know you anywhere," she bit out harshly, "Ghoul or no, I'd know you John McDonough. You hold yourself just the way she said you did. God, how Ella loved you."

Hancock's head jerked up. He looked the greying woman in the eye, seeing tears spilling over her cheeks.

"You...you knew Ella?"

"Knew her?!" The woman let out a humorless, broken laugh. "I'm her mother!"

Hancock's eye's widened. After all that time he'd forgotten the possibility that Ella had a family living in Diamond City. He viewed her as a drifter, like him, no family to answer to. No home but the one she made for herself to go back to.

"I knew she was out there running the wilds with some hooligan. Tore our family apart. Found empty jet containers in her room all the time. Then one day she came to her father and I and flat out confessed. Told us all about you and the nights the two of you spent together. She said she was going to get help, that she was going to get clean. She said whether you knew it or not that you were weak, and that you needed someone to be strong for you. Said she wanted to be that person. She was so in love with you, she didn't care if the world knew it. Broke her father's heart when she came home a Ghoul. We were so scared for her.

Hancock just stared in shock.

"I... I don't..."

"We were there, you know, the day she died," Mrs. Mayweather muttered, voice filled with sorrow.

"We knew the town might come after people like her. We tried to hide her but it was too late. They came barging into the shop looking for her. She ran out the back door and we followed, trying to keep her safe. She got caught up in the crowds and we couldn't get to her fast enough. We watched her get gunned down. We also saw you." She choked on the last word, tears flowing in a steady stream down her face.

"You were there... You were there so she didn't have to be scared... she didn't have to die alone..."

"Mrs. Mayweather..."

Mrs. Mayweather openly wept for a moment before pulling herself together. Hancock stood awkwardly, head swimming with the memory of that day.

"I'm sorry... Oh, but you're here now, looking for rings! I'm happy you're moving on, Ella would've wanted that. I can't think of anyone better to take her place than that Nora woman."

"How did you know about that?"

Mrs. Mayweather smiled a sweet, devious smile at Hancock. He swallowed at the knot in his throat that told him how much Ella resembled her mother.

"Oh, gossip travels fast in the Commonwealth. And we have nothing to do but gossip, really. Here, none of these pieces are good enough, take this."

Mrs. Mayweather pulled off of her own slender finger a ruby and silver ring. A ring like it would be nearly impossible to find anywhere else in the Commonwealth.

"My grandmother's. I was going to give it to Ella when she got clean and I knew she wouldn't hock it for chems. I want you to have it."

"I couldn't possibly-"

"Please. I want you to have it."

Hancock turned the ring over several times in his fingers before finally pocketing it. He turned to leave...

"Mrs. Mayweather?"

"Yes?"

"I... Your daughter... I'm..."

She caught on quickly, striding across the room to hold Hancock's face in her hands.

"Oh no... oh sweetheart. There was _nothing_ you could have done to save her. It's not your fault dear, it was just fate."

Hancock swallowed at the lump in his throat again, leaning into the elderly woman's touch. It wasn't often anyone aside from his various lovers touched him with no fear or reluctance. The embrace was motherly and kind, and it melted his heart. He wasn't even sure if he believed the woman's words but, selfishly, it had been what he needed to hear for years. The closure he didn't know he needed.

Hancock thanked the woman before heading out again, back toward Sanctuary, towards home.

(/)

John heaved up the last of the contents of his stomach. He'd seen some violence in his day, but what Vic's boys had done to that innocent man...

He shook his head, trying to rid his nose of the coppery scent of blood. It wound its way through his mind, burrowing in that place where he's carefully packed away the memory of Ella and her death.

 _When you just have nothing else left in this life to lose..._

He made his mind up, grabbing his pack and heading out into the night.

He hit the bar, drinking until the bartender refused to serve him anymore. When the scene at the bar bored him, he picked a fight with the biggest man in the room. He got the shit knocked out of him, but he didn't care. Every punch made him feel alive. When he was thrown out of the bar he crawled out into the street and popped several Mentats. He walked down to a more underground scene with it's own bar. He forwent alcohol, instead taking several doses of Jet and a couple syringes of psycho. His head was swimming by the time the pretty blonde he'd been grinding against dragged him into a back room. He counted three? No, four gorgeous women and two men. They all fought for his attention, undressing him, running their hands along his body, whispering words to him that he couldn't understand. He left when they turned their attention to each other, barely pulling his clothes back on.

He stumbled drunkenly through the Commonwealth for sometime before collapsing. He reached into his pack, noting the distinct lack of caps. He pulled out the glowing syringe. In the back of his mind he could hear her.

" _I...L...Love..._ "

He brought the syringe down hard, the vision of her grinning face and mousy features swimming in front of him. He reached out to the mirage, reaching for her as her face twisted into the face of his older brother, grinning at the destruction his election sanctioned.

John recoiled as the face swirled into that of one of Vic's thugs. Grinning as blood splattered his face while he bashed in an innocent man's head.

When John came too, he saw his reflection in a pane of glass. His mess of long blond hair had fallen out in patches. His skin-what was left of it-was grey and peeling. His eyes were a putrid black.

His focus shifted from his reflection in the glass panel to what it housed: There, in all its tattered magnificence, were the clothes of John Hancock.

(/)

Nora and Hancock lay in bed together the night after their wedding, both pleasantly tipsy from wine and each other's embrace.

"Promise me again," Nora said shifting her hand so she could admire the ruby ring that now adorned it.

"C'mon now, sunshine, you don't trust me?"

"Of course I trust you! I married you! But I also know you. So promise me again."

Hancock sighed.

"I promise you, no one was murdered in the acquisition of that ring."

"Mmkay, I believe you... for now."

Hancock chuckled and pulled Nora in closer.

"Some days I can't believe you picked me," She whispered into his shoulder.

"You? Can't believe I chose you? What world are you living on? I'd love to visit."

Nora laughed and punched him in the arm.

"Hey, I'm used goods over here. I'm on marriage number two."

Hancock snorted.

"Well don't worry. We're practically even on that note."

"Oh?"

Nora sat up, running her fingers across Hancock's face.

"There was someone else before? What was she like?"

Hancock sat in silence for a moment, in thought.

"A lot like you, actually... Like a trip you never wanna come down from."

"Aww. You sure do have a way with words John Hancock."

Nora leaned up and kissed Hancock before snuggling back down against his bare chest.

"Goodnight, John. I love you."

"I love you too, sunshine."

Hancock laid there awake for another few minutes, just listening to Nora breathe. He thought back on the memories he'd already made with her, and smiled at the thought of all the new one's they'd create. In the back of his mind, the void of dark memories pulled for his attention, but instead he reached in for one golden memory.

The memory of first meeting Ella. Of somehow just knowing that the two of them were going to get into all sorts of trouble over the next few years. It was the same feeling he got looking at Nora. And it was on that thought that he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
